Just One Last Dance
by Rose Lynx
Summary: Tomorrow, they will fight on opposite sides of the battlefield. Tonight, they are carefree. Prequel to On Opposite Sides of the Battlefield. Amecan, America/Canada, Alfred/Matthew. Human names used.


Song used: Just One Last Dance by Sarah Conner

_**Bold and italicized: **_Song lyrics

Alternate universe.

I suggest you listen to this song while reading :3

It was quiet in Antonio's living room, with the exception of the Spanish melody softly floating from a speaker. The brunette had decided to sneak a few of his closest friends into his house for a small get-together before the war the next day.

_**We meet in the night in the Spanish café  
I look in your eyes, just don't know what to say  
It feels like I'm drowning in salty water**_

There had been some unresolved tension between Britain and France since the last war, and it had blazed to life just currently. Arthur, being the caretaker of Alfred, gained America's aid in the war, while Francis responded with Matthew by his side.

Tomorrow was the confrontation, and both of the younger countries were reluctant to take their place beside their respective fathers. Tomorrow was a doomed day, a day of death and separation, and they just wanted a moment to themselves.

_**A few hours left 'til the sun's gonna rise  
Tomorrow will come, it's time to realize  
Our love, is finished forever**_

Alfred ran a hand through the silken gold locks of his quiet companion, who currently was resting his head on the American's relaxed shoulder while they were seated on a couch.

"Alfred, _mon amour_, stay wi' me," murmured a soft, pleading voice tinged with a French accent, "until 'ze morning."

"You know I'll be by your side," is the whispered response, the unspoken _'at least until we have to go'_ lingering between the two.

Matthew, apparently satisfied with the answer he had received, hummed contentedly and tilted his head. "What a pretty song."

_**How I wish to come with you  
How I wish we'll make it through**_

They were a funny sight, Alfred in his tan uniform, so out of place in the quiet scene, while Matthew was almost buried in his oversized hoodie and pair of jeans, a gift from Alfred. It was even stranger when Alfred got up and offered a hand to a bewildered Matthew, whose violet eyes suddenly shone with realization and delight. The Canadian accepted the outstretched hand, and the young couple swayed to the slow beat, the other few countries quietly shifting to give them some space.

The looks of pity aimed at them were common. All the others saw were two innocent young countries, in what they called 'love', about to have their hopes and dreams kicked to the ground and stabbed by war.

But the two lovers were not stupid. They knew they would be split. But they were wise enough to not pursue it further.

_**Just one last dance, before we say goodbye  
When we sway and turn round and round and round  
It's like the first time**_

As they swayed to the music, Matthew's hood fell over, making him seem even more buried in his giant clothes. Alfred only chuckled and swept his hood and soft bangs back, giving him a chaste kiss on the forehead, Matthew's cheeks flushing crimson and his violet eyes darting around the room to check for any people watching.

Alfred smiled fondly at his shy comrade. "Why are you so anxious, love?"

Matthew sighed and blushed again. "_Je ne sais_- I mean, I do not know."

"No, say it in French, I like it when you do. Your lovely voice complements the flowery language rather nicely."

Matthew blushed, but acquiesced. "_D'accord."_

The sunlight streaked through the partially obscured window, and Matthew shot Alfred a look of regret. "I 'ave to be going. _ Papa _will not be 'appy if 'e does not find me."

Alfred sighed. "On the battlefield today…will you remember our promises?"

"But of course."

"We'll be pitched against one another, forced to attack each other in a number of hours."

At that, Matthew leaned in and whispered sweet phrases of French into the other's ear. Alfred relaxed and nodded, but had he known what the smooth words had actually meant besides the 'je t'aime', he would have been torn.

"_Ne t'inquiète pas, mon amour. Si je dois te battre, je vais me tuer. Je t'aime._"

_Don't worry, my love. If we have to fight, I will kill myself. I love you._

This is a sort-of prequel to the series I am writing.


End file.
